


Win, Lose or Draw!

by Shion (Nightmare_Taichou)



Series: Re:Make [1]
Category: ONE OK ROCK
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 03:18:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15306276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightmare_Taichou/pseuds/Shion
Summary: Yamashita Toru, a young editor at Amuse Publishing House never knew the mess he'd land himself into when he decided to assist a budding artist with great talent who came to him for plot advice.Moriuchi Takahiro, a twenty-five year old who hated his job and everyone around him decided to take his best friend —Satoh Takeru's advice to enter theDenki Grand Prix—a manga award offered by Amuse— given his talent in the artistic field.However, before he could actually enter the competition, Takahiro chose to seek professional advice, not on his artwork, but his suckish plot.But little did the two men know that this meeting was just the start of their strange —yet insanely spicey—relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

...

...

 

Yamashita Toru was exhausted but at the same time, relieved.

Hell week had just ended, but more so, one of the manga he'd been editing will have its final chapter published next week. A part of him was a bit sad that it was done, as it was quite fun while it lasted. And the mangaka was quite cooperative as well. It had been a smooth ride —well, as smooth as it could be with him and the mangaka arguing over how he edited the panels, or getting the mangaka to meet his deadline among many other stressful things that come with the territory.

However, he knew that this peace wouldn't last.

With a little over a month, there would be the _"Denki Grand Prix"_ manga award, an annual competition the company hosts for upcoming artists and budding mangakas. And whichever one that wins, would most likely be serialized, that is, if the artist wasn't entering _just to win_ the prize money. And now that he's only editing one manga, he knew deep down, that there's a high possibility that he'll be editing the winning manga. Everyone else in his department hands are full anyway.

At the moment, he was heading home from a gathering with the editors of his department. It was a custom, whenever a successful manga had ended, whichever department —be it shoujo manga, shounen manga, fantasy, etc.— they go out to congratulate the editor in guiding the manga to a successful end.

Reaching his driveway, he quickly parked and hopped out and after he took his shoes off at the genkan, Toru immediately went to his bathroom for a soak in his tub. He was going to enjoy what remaining time he had left, because maybe, just maybe, all this was the calm before the storm.

And funny enough, Toru has never been so right in his entire life.

 

...

...

...

 

Two young men were sitting in a park, hiding from the sun beneath a large tree. One of the men were sketching in a book, with different pencils lying in an open case. Moriuchi Takahiro he was; having curly hair which almost hid his bright eyes, dressed in a sleeveless shirt and jeans with sneakers. The other beside him —Satoh Takeru, had straightened hair which was done in a semi-sweep to the left and like his companion, was dressed casually.

"Taka, I really believe that you should enter the  _Denki_ _Grand Prix._ " Takeru said as he leaned over and looked at what Takahiro was sketching.

"You really think so?"

"No, I don't. That's why I'm telling you this." Takeru replied in sarcasm.

"You fucker! That was a rhetorical question!" Takahiro roared, making a playful attempt to stab Takeru with his pencil.

Takeru grinned at his best friend as he inched away. Takahiro hadn't made a move to follow to actually stab him, so the taller of the two rose to his feet, dusting off the dirt from his jeans.

"I'm being serious here," Takeru said, looking up at the clear blue sky. "You should really try it out. I mean, think about all the other established mangakas out there. With your art, you can make it as well."

Takahiro let the words soak in first before he answered. "It's luck." he said. "Sure, I can draw, but if people don't like it, what am I going to do?" he then added, "I'll need a plot, right?"

Takeru shrugged. "I can't help you with that."

Takahiro rolled his eyes. "Useless."

Takeru pouted. "I'm hurt. I'm so hurt."

Takahiro didn't respond to Takeru's antics. Instead, he refocused on his drawing, totally ignoring the taller male. That said, Takeru hovered over Takahiro like a mother, ensuring that her child was doing his homework or something. But no matter how many times he's seen Takahiro draw, it never ceases to amaze him.

The two had gone to school together, and as strange as it may sound, they were _always_ seatmates in every single class. The two had thought that it was some unknown force out there keeping them together no matter what they did.

Still, their school lives weren't all that great.

Takahiro was never "the brightest crayon in the box", except in Art Class, Home Economics and Music. He had always gotten the highest scores in these classes, the first being his best. But everything else, was a downward spiral. Takeru had tried to help him salvage his grades, but truly, Takahiro was a lost cause. So, being the best friend that he was, Takeru helped out his friend in every way possible. Like, seeing how Takahiro can actually make a living doing what he does best, Takeru had always urged him to try out art competitions and manga awards. 

Takahiro has taken his advice couple of times, but he's never won a manga award. Well, the competition was extremely stiff, anyway.

"So, are you going to try out for Denki?" Takeru asked again.

Takahiro sighed. "Yeah. I guess." he hummed. "It's not like I have anything better doing."

"You have work."

Takahiro snorted with disgust. "It's slavery. Not work."

"You have paid slavery."

"I'm going to really stab you, Takeru."

"But aren't I your lovable best friend? How can you stab me?"

"I'll count to five..." Takahiro started, taking up a 6B pencil and sharpening it to its finest.

"I'm shutting up now."

"Good."

...

...

 

That night when Takahiro reached home, he actually thought about what Takeru had said. Entering that competition wouldn't be so bad but he didn't want to lose again. It's painful to know that you've put your heart and soul into something and then...nothing comes out of it.

But as they say, " _nothing tried, nothing done"._

He got up off his bed and headed to the kitchen to fix himself dinner. But first, he looked through the numerous cook books that he had to search up a recipe. As he scanned the pages, he found one that he liked and thought of ways to tweak it to his liking.

It was then that he got an idea.

Forgetting about dinner, Takahiro flew to his sofa and quickly opened up a sketch book that was resting on the coffee table. But instead of drawing, he was jotting something down —ideas for a plot.

For about two hours he scribbled, and when he was done, he started working on the character designs. The competition will be starting one month from now, so in essence, he'll have about two months to finish. However, Takahiro isn't a man who waits until last minute to do things, which means, he has only one and a half month to finish.

Feeling satisfied with his creations, Takahiro huffed with pride. "Now that the rough designs are done with, I think I can actually start something by tomorrow." he then added with a frown, "If that fucker doesn't pest me at work."

...

...

 

And so, the days passed by quickly, Takahiro sneaking in every chance he could get to draw his manuscript. He drew during the breaks at work, he drew at lunchtime, he drew when riding on the train home, he was _always_ drawing. He was an ordinary office worker, but he hated his job and some of the bitches and bastards that he had to work with. Drawing was the only time he actually felt at peace, and felt like his whole life wasn't wasting away each day. That and, busting Takeru's ass whenever they see each other.

Like now.

He planned to meet up with his best friend at a yakiniku restaurant  to show him what he's gotten so far. After all, he was the one who kept advising him to participate in Denki.

"Glad to see you still living Taka." the bastard grinned as Takahiro sat down.

"Glad to see you're still an asshole, Takeru." Takahiro quipped.

"Maa, maa," Takeru smirked, "So can I see the magnificent work of the great Takahiro?"

"Sure, sure." The curly haired male produced the sheets of paper from his bag and handed it to his best friend. That said, when Takeru saw it, his jaws slackened with awe. He's known for a fact that Takahiro kept getting better and better at drawing from the time they've met, but, he couldn't help himself in restraining his amazement. Takahiro was a damn good artist, and it would be a fucking waste if talent like this was left to rot.

"Wow, this is stunning!" Takeru shrieked.

"Bitch, read the damn thing and tell me if it's okay." Takahiro snapped. "Since you won't help me with a plot, you better tell me whether or not it can work."

"Fine. Fine." Takeru chuckled, he found Takahiro's impatience cute. "By the way, what's it about? Gimme a summary or something."

Takahiro glared at him.

"What? Are you going to pick up a tankobon or read a new manga in a magazine without the summary? Huh?"

"Fuck, fine." Takahiro grumbled. "I don't have one but in a nutshell, it's about cooking. A boy who grew up with his father that ran a diner in a less favourable part of town gets enrolled in a prestigious culinary academy that boasts a ten percent graduation rate."

"Ten percent?! Taka, how evil are you?!" Takeru shouted.

"What? I wanted to make him struggle as much as I can. Plus, he won't suffer _that much._ "

"I don't trust you!"

"If you had given me a plot then you wouldn't be in this mess."

"Asshole." But without any further complaints, Takeru read through the manuscript. Along the way, he pointed out a few grammatical mistakes, but he gave Takahiro's work a thumbs up —not the art, he didn't need to tell Takahiro that, but the plot. Sure, he made it known that there was more work to be done on story-wise but the idea in of itself was pretty interesting.

That's all Takahiro needed to hear.

Once Takeru said something was good, or bad, the petite male always took his word for it. Takeru was impartial, whether to friend, family or stranger. He was straightforward, and didn't like to beat around the bush, except when it came onto his love life, but that's a different matter.

"Great. Now I can finish up and head over to Amuse when it's done."

Takeru paused. "Head over? Isn't the competition still a little ways off?"

"I'm going in to see an editor to get some advice first."

"Ah, mochikomi, huh? That makes sense." he nodded. "But can we eat now? I'm pretty famished, you know?"

"One of these days, I'm going to seriously kill you."

"I love you too."

...

...

...

 

The following weekend, when Takahiro had his day off, he went to Amuse Publishing House. Given that he didn't want to be late, the petite man used a taxi service to get there a little before time, as he wanted to make a good impression.

The moment he exited out of the taxi, Takahiro stopped and looked at the imposing building before him.

Although he was planning to enter the Denki competition, he wanted advice from a professional first. And luckily, in Japan, publishing houses offered just that. It was called _"Mochikomi"_ where it was simply the artist bringing their work to an editor. All the artists had to do was call the publishing house of their choice, and make an appointment.

Which is what Takahiro did.

After calming himself down, he walked into the building, briefly admiring how the tiles on the floor were so clean that he could see his reflection in them. He's never been inside of a publishing house before, so Takahiro's eyes was all over the place. But remembering the reason he came here, he swiftly made his way to reception desk, and before he could say anything, the receptionist asked,

"Good day, Sir. Do you have an appointment?"

"Ah, yes I do." Takahiro replied. He took note of her facial expression and frowned. Many people these days often believed that he was a teenager, some as awful as a bitch to think he's twelve. He was twenty-five for God's sake! "I have it at 1pm with Yamashita-san from Shounen Weekly."

With a smile, she pushed a form towards him and said, "Great. Please fill out this form before you can proceed."

"Thanks." Takahiro said as he whipped out a pen. The form he had gotten was a visitor's registration, in which _everyone_ had to fill out if they didn't work here and had to meet with someone in the company. "Here you go." he returned the form as soon as he was done.

"Wait just a moment." she said when she took it. Soon after, she took up the receiver and dialled. "Good day Yamashita-san. Moriuchi-san is here to see you."

Takahiro stood and waited with anxiety. He had long tuned out the receptionist, and had his eyes roaming about the place once again. If he had known he was going to be so nervous, then he would have hauled Takeru's ass here as moral support whether or not he had work.

"Moriuchi-san, please wait in the second cubicle down the hall. Yamashita-san will be with you shortly."

With a nod, he followed the receptionist's instructions and headed to be cubicle. However, when he walked by the first, he heard something that nearly made him call Takeru to get his ass here.

"This is rubbish. I don't even know where to start." Takahiro heard a deep voice say, the sounds of papers ruffling were also in the mix. "Well, your art is terrible. I don't want to sound harsh, but no one will even look at your first panel given how bad the art is on the cover."

Takahiro shivered.

How ironic, the man didn't want to sound harsh, but instead he totally did. But, he figured that's how the world is anyway. Even he, there's no way he'd take up a manga to read if the art is shit. While Takahiro may be confident in his artistic skills, there was a part of him that was afraid, that plot-wise, the editor will say it's shit.

"Calm down Takahiro." he tried to soothe himself as he sat down. "Take it like the man you are."

"Take what?" a deep voice greeted from the entrance way.

Takahiro jolted in surprise and let out a small yelp, which had the man standing there smiling briefly. "Ah..."

The man had bleached blond hair done in a sweep to the left and big eyes that reminded Takahiro immediately of "Gachapin", a popular television character in children TV shows. He had lovely lips that curved at the right areas. He was dressed simply, a jeans pants with a dress shirt cuffed to his elbows.

When he sat, he asked Takahiro, "I take it you're Moriuchi Takahiro?"

"Hai."

"I'm Yamashita Toru from Weekly Shounen. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you."

"So, let's not waste time here, may I see your manuscript?"

"Yes of course." Takahiro said as he opened his artist's portfolio. He then handed the papers to the editor after which he waited for his "sentence".

Toru, on the other hand, was blown away by the artwork _alone._ He paused for a moment, rubbed his eyes to make sure that he was seeing properly. And indeed he was. The detailing was very good —the shading, the toning, everything was well done. Even the bodies of the characters drawn had the correct proportions.

 _Now onto the plot._ Toru thought as he skipped through the pages. He skimmed through to get the gist of the idea first but when he reached a certain page, his eyebrows started to rise.

He stopped.

"How old are you?" he asked in concern. Takahiro looks like twelve, but if he was twelve, naturally, he'd be in school. But then again, he could be a truant. So, if he was indeed twelve, why and how could he draw such "ecchi" scenes?

Takahiro didn't reply, but instead, took out his ID and showed Toru. He was mad to snap at the editor but he realized that pissing this guy off will get him nowhere.

"You're twenty-five?" Toru couldn't believe it. They were the same age! Although, Toru was still twenty-four, given that his birthday was in December. "But why do you look like that?"

"How do I look?!" Takahiro couldn't help it. He really did snap.

"You look like twelve. I thought you were a truant or something."

"Excuse me?" the aspiring artist shrieked so loudly, his voice entered a falsetto.

"Keep your voice down." Toru quickly said. "But anyway, let's talk about the manuscript." he changed the subject quite quickly. "Your art is beautiful, mind-blowing even, almost like a pro. And it's really good that your designs are not  _just_ designs, but they look and feel like manga. Your backgrounds, on the other hand, in comparison with your characters is at best "good". There are five levels we like to work with:  _fair, average, good, excellent, mastery._ So, you have work on your backgrounds."

Takahiro exhaled a sigh of relief. _Thank God._ "Hai. I can do that."

"Now, the plot."

Takahiro stiffened upon hearing that. He had a feeling that it would have been his weakness. And judging by Toru's voice, it sounds as though he really was going to hear that it's shit.

"It's not bad. The idea is interesting, I've never seen anything like it, but it's too much like a novel than a manga. Too much _narration_ , Moriuchi-san. With manga, you need to tell the story through the characters."

"How is it more narration?"

"It's too text heavy." Toru replied swiftly as he pat the papers with the back of his hand. He then pushed a page towards Takahiro. "Here, where you have this everlasting epistle of description, you could have done it more like this: _omit the text and show the character doing it instead_." the editor advised. "Like here where you have _"he reached for the garlic and seasoning, using it to marinate the chicken"_ , show the character reaching for the ingredients by stretching over to where they are, _then_ you show him rubbing it in the chicken before he sets it aside and moves onto something else." Toru said. "No text is needed for that. And if you want to think about it step by step, that's just three panels and not this two-page spread. You're killing the trees, you know?"

Takahiro was going to clap back at the "everlasting epistle" part, but when he allowed Toru to finish, he realized that what the blond was taking about made sense.

"Well, I wasn't the one who killed the trees in the first place. I've done nothing wrong."

Toru drew back. "I see someone's crabby."

"You don't want me to tell you who's crabby."

"Feisty." Toru said with a small chuckle. Even though he knew that Takahiro was twenty-five and not twelve, it was still amusing to see him with the expressions that he has. He shouldn't be teasing someone, though, a potential partner, but he just couldn't resist.

"Anyway, let's continue." he quickly said to get his straying mind back on track.

"Fine."

Their meeting continued for some more time, Toru really breaking down Takahiro's strengths and weaknesses. It left the artist in shock, as the editor could tell so many things, just by looking at his manuscript. Apart from that, Takahiro asked the man a million and one questions, and there, Toru found out that Takahiro was planning on entering the Denki competition with _that_ manga.

"Moriuchi-san," Toru started.

"Call me "Taka". Not Moriuchi." the petite man interjected before Toru could continue.

"Right. Do you plan on going pro?"

Takahiro nodded. "I want to. But I..."

Toru didn't pry when he saw Takahiro trail off and looked away. "Great. I'm going to hold onto this manuscript, and enter it into the Denki competition for you, is that alright?" _  
_

"No!" Takahiro responded rather strongly. "I mean, I want to fix it up as you said first. That's why I came here in the first place, to get advice before I enter the competition."

Toru leaned back in his seat. He felt that there was potential from this manga, but he didn't want Takahiro to enter the Denki. One reason being, if in the case that he _doesn't_ win, Toru wouldn't want the young man to give up altogether. But, if Toru keeps it, he could work with Takahiro to better the plot and get it serialized.

He needed to dissuade him.

"You do realize that it is July tenth, right?" Toru said. "How are you going to get this in by the end of the month? Do you have someone assisting you?"

Takahiro looked away. "I can draw 1-2 pages during breaks, and 3-4 pages on weekends. I'm sure I can —"

"Taka." Toru's deep voice sent shivers down Takahiro's spine. The stern tone that he used made the artist stiffen momentarily. "That's just _drawing._ What about inking, toning, and I see you've even used screentone stickers as well. Don't be delusional." he added, "Plus, you're twenty-five. Don't you have work?"

"I have paid slavery." Takahiro grumbled out.

Toru saw an opening. "Well, if you take my advice, you won't have "paid slavery" anymore. You'll be doing what you want and getting paid for it. As the saying goes, _"choose a job that you love and you'll never have to work a day in your life"._ "

"You've got a point there." Takahiro said with a nod. Toru felt a weight come off his shoulders, as though he had been fighting with the petite artist. He exhaled a sigh of relief but that didn't last long given that Takahiro added, "But I still want to enter the  competition."

It felt as though time froze. "This stubborn fuck." Thankfully Takahiro hadn't heard. So quickly, he said, "Fine. I'll still hold onto this manuscript and given how stubborn you are, you're still going to want to re-do everything right?"

"Of course. Which means, you can't hold onto my manuscript!"

"Calm down. Hear what, I'll be frank with you." Toru started up again. "You're going to get good marks from the mangaka judges on your art and originality but you'll probably get marked down by the editor judges for plot. Will it affect whether or not you win? Yes it certainly will."

"So...what are you saying, you bastard?" Takahiro gritted out.

"Let me finish." Toru sighed. "I'm saying that if you want, I can work with you on your plot while still helping you with your manuscript. How about it?"

Takahiro didn't even hitch. Getting help from an editor was the best thing that could happen. But, is it fair to the other contestants? Takahiro couldn't give a flying fuck. "Sure!" he perked up.

"Great." Toru took a business card out of his wallet after which he wrote his cellphone number on it. "I'm not always able to get to the phone so you can call me directly."

"You give out your cellphone number to people?"

"No, of course not." Toru said swiftly. "It's because your work is interesting and I see potential. If it wasn't, I wouldn't even give you a business card."

"Ouch."

But even so, Takahiro felt blessed. He never came in with the intention of getting an editor to help him with plot, all he wanted was immediate advice. Still, it seems that the gods of good luck and fortune have favoured him.

After exchanging a few final words, Takahiro left Amuse Publishers, a bright smile evident on his face.

Meanwhile, Toru returned to the editing department, still holding onto Takahiro's manuscript. The two had come to an agreement — _after much deliberation_ —that Takahiro could re-do the whole thing but first hand in a _"name" —_ the rough draft which the finished manga is based on—to Toru so that he can fix what needed fixing before Takahiro starts to draw. But there was something else on Toru's mind.

Although Takahiro was a male, he was undeniably _cute._

Toru knew he shouldn't be thinking about who may end up being a possible client or whatever, but he couldn't resist. The way his hair curled around the nape of his neck, his cheeks and his forehead, his bright, lustrous smiles and his voice that sounds so sweet, nearly had Toru melting like butter. He had to fight with all his willpower to not pounce on the smaller man, which he found odd.

How can one person who he's _never_ met before do such a thing to him?

Toru has never believed in love at first sight, but what was this? He was sure he didn't love Takahiro but there was some attraction going on that he couldn't stop. Almost like a magnet drawing metal.

Exiting the elevator onto the fifth floor, Toru wordlessly returned to his desk and heaved a sigh. There was a gut feeling that told him that this Moriuchi Takahiro was going to be a handful. He could feel it in his bones. He slumped and threw his head back in the chair, closing his eyes.

"Hey, Toru. What's the matter?"

He cracked open an eye as he recognized the voice. "I had to deal with someone quite stubborn not too long ago."

It was his co-worker and high school friend, Alexander Reimon Onizawa, but everyone calls him "Alex" or for those who were formal, Onizawa. He was half American, half Japanese, but he looked more American than Japanese.

"Ah, another bud?" Alex asked as he sat on Toru's desk. "Bud" was what they used to call "budding mangakas" or artists who come to them for mochikomi.

"Yeah. You know, he was quite feisty too."

"Ha!" the elder male laughed. "I wish I had him! The one I met was a sap, with terrible art but the plot was fucking good. I asked him if he wanted to be a writer instead, so we could source an artist for him."

"And what did he say?"

"He said he'll think about it." Alex deadpanned with an eye roll. "It's probably because I told him his art was shit right off the bat."

"But, if it was shit why did he even...?"

"People are blind to their own shit, that's why." Alex shrugged. "So, was your bud's art as revolting as mine was? Tell me how did it go?"

"His art was amazing. He wanted to enter the Denki competition but I want to persuade him to work on the plot to get serialized. I don't want if he loses, he gives up and let his talent goes to waste."

"Oh? He's that good?"

Toru said nothing but handed the envelope with Takahiro's work in it. Alex only took out one page, screamed and nearly fell off his perch. With a nasty glare, he asked Toru, "Why didn't you persuade him harder?!" he raked a hand through his dark hair in shock. The others in the office paused for a moment and looked in their direction, wondering what the ruckus about. "Shit, if I had known, I could have made your bud draw for my bud. Fuck."

"Weren't you listening? He's a stubborn fuck. No matter what I threw at him, he finds some clap back. Anyway, He's going to enter the competition if he finishes —" Toru broke off as he heard his phone ring. Gesturing to Alex, he answered the call. "Hello?"

_"Yamashita Toru-san?"_

"Hai."

_"It's Taka. Figured I should give you my number."_

"Lovely."

_"By the way, you said you were going to help with the plot, how soon can we get started?"_

Toru grinned. He loved when they were enthusiastic and zealous because as soon as they got settled, they turned into living zombies. "You tell me."

Takahiro on the other end, could hear the younger male's grin. _"Fine. This evening."_

"Any specific meeting place? Or you'll be giving me your address?"

Alex, who was only hearing Toru's side of the conversation, rose an eyebrow in question. The tone of voice indicated that it was not any of his friends that he was talking to, and Alex knew that it couldn't be a "bud" either. After all, Toru never gives out his personal number to anyone. He then gasped as he came to a conclusion. _Is it a girl?!_ He screamed on the inside.

"Okay, I'll meet you there at six. Bye."

The moment Toru hung up, Alex attacked. "So, who was she?"

" _He's_ the "bud" I was telling you about." Toru emphasized the pronoun a little too much.

Alex immediately deflated. "You gave him your number?"

"Yeah, I couldn't let this gem slip through my fingers."

Alex nodded. He totally understood what Toru meant. "So, what are you going to do about him?"

"Given that he's adamant to enter the Denki, I'll help him with his plot, give him advice and stuff, and when he's done with everything, I enter it. If he wins, then good for us. If he doesn't then I persuade him to make more. With his talent, the only thing he needs to worry about is time and the plot."

"Heeh? Now I'm interested." Alex smirked. "I wanna meet this bud of yours, who's managed to force the cold Yamashita Toru into giving him his number." he snickered, "Could this be fate? Destiny?"

"If you don't move within the next second, I'll stab you to death."

"Hai. Hai." Alex waved, sauntering back to his desk. "You can't stab me to death because Tomoya needs me to edit his stuff."

"He can always find a new editor." Toru grumbled loud enough for Alex to hear.

The half American only chuckled from his desk and sent Toru a playful wink. After that, everything went back to normal, Toru checking up on his other manga artist to see how far she's reached with her manuscript. He had edited her name sometime ago, so he figured he should check up on her given that her deadline was nearing and hopefully, she wasn't sleeping on it.

...

...

 

At the end of the day, Toru left Amuse and headed to the address that Takahiro gave him, trying his best to ignore Alex's teasing taunts. For an hour and a half he drove, playing his favourite rock music to keep his mind occupied.

When he had finally reached, he noticed that the address Takahiro had given him was in fact his personal address. He pulled up at the sidewalk, and phoned the petite man, informing him of his arrival. Lazily, Toru got out of his car and leaned on the bumper, with his hands tucked into his pockets. Soon, he could see Takahiro exiting through the sliding glass doors and beckoned to him to follow.

Once they've made it through reception, they entered an elevator, and headed up to the fourth floor. The journey was quiet, neither males knew what to say. As for Takahiro, he was itching for the elevator door to open. He never felt so stifled in his life, standing next to Toru seemed as though the air suddenly got heavy.

As soon as the door opened, Takahiro hopped out with Toru following, walking down the pristine halls quietly. They soon came to a stop at a chocolate coloured door after which Takahiro pulled out his keys from his pocket.

"Here we are." Takahiro said as he turned the key in the lock. Entering, the two removed their shoes at the genkan, Takahiro bringing Toru into his living room. The editor's eyes were amazed at how neat his place was, the TV was settled on the left wall, facing the white sofa which he was about to sit in. The coffee table present had tons of manuscript sheets neatly placed on top of each other, with pencils ordered from 2B to 6B beside. "Now let's get started." Takahiro sat as he took up a pencil and looked at Toru with happiness oozing out of the smaller male.

_His cuteness is going to kill me._

 


	2. Chapter 2

...

 

It was after two o'clock in the morning when Toru finally left Takahiro's house.

They had successfully worked out the plot of the manuscript that the smaller male had handed in yesterday, and he had even done up a fifteen page name — _although the competition requires thirty-one to fifty pages—_ in that short space of time. So, by this evening, Takahiro was supposed to add more to the fifteen pages, and bring it to Toru via mochikomi yet again.

But as Toru drove home, he began to wonder if Takahiro will actually meet the contest's deadline. It was at the end of the month, and he only had fifteen pages of a name —it wasn't even drawn yet, just some rough sketches of the main ideas. He had many more pages to go, plus background, inking and toning and possible screentone stickers if Takahiro wanted to be extra.

Still, with the young man's tenacity, there was a part of Toru that believed he could actually pull it off. But what a plotline Takahiro thought of. He's seen mangas about cooking before, but never one quite like Takahiro's. It was interesting and he really wanted to see more of it. He wanted to see it in print, in their weekly magazine.

After a couple more hours of driving, Toru arrived home and immediately went to bed. He hadn't even changed his clothes; instead, he only took off his belt and tossed it aside on the floor before falling asleep.

 

...

...

...

 

"It's best if you omit this panel and fuse these two together." Toru said as he marked on the paper with a purple inked pen. "It makes it flow better."

"Okay." Takahiro nodded and whipped out a pencil and made a note of it in writing. "Anything else?"

Toru gave Takahiro a stare. "I'm getting to that. How impatient are you?"

Takahiro turned his face away and huffed. "Well, the Denki is at the end of the month."

"But I'm not the one who doesn't want to turn in his first manuscript. I still have it tucked away safely in my drawer, you know?" Toru countered.

"I know but I really want to win."

Toru hummed. "So what are you going to do if you don't win? Or rather, if you don't get in the top three?" he asked. While winning these contests was the most the most favourable position, by placing in the top three still gives the artist a chance to be serialized.

Takahiro smirked. "I'll take you up on your other offer."

Toru nodded in satisfaction. But either way, Toru believed that the petite man will succeed. Coupled with the art, the plot of the manga was extremely captivating. Even for those who have no interest in the culinary arts will _still_ find it appealing in more ways than one.

"So, let's continue, shall we?"

For about an hour or two Toru made corrections, with Takahiro arguing and rejecting some of the younger man's advice. Here, the young editor got a taste of the _other side_ of Takahiro. He cursed, he threatened, he screeched and shrieked —the little man _spat fire_ at Toru. On the other hand, Toru was only caught by momentary surprise, but other times, he sat there with a bored expression that would only set off the small man even further.

And after all Takahiro's rants, Toru would say, "Are you done now?" which would inevitably spur on _another_ series of rants. Although it was somewhat scary to see Takahiro mad, Toru found him comical and _cute._ The way he puffed out his cheek when he had nothing clap back at Toru with, the way how he flips his hair in absolute triumph when the editor gives in to him...

"So, do you think that you can make the deadline?" Toru asked, pulling his mind from drifting into the gutters.

"Of course." Takahiro huffed with pride. "I am the Great Takahiro anyway."

"Good." Toru nodded. "So I take it that you can finish this on your own now? I've felt like I've given you enough guidance."

The look Takahiro gave Toru made the editor jolt in surprise. "I'll be coming back. And if you try to ignore me, I'll find your house."

 _Hmm, that wouldn't be such a bad idea..._ "I won't ignore you." Toru quickly said, his mind was yet again drifting. "So when again?"

"When I'm finished with the next set of pages." Takahiro said with a bright smile. At that moment, Toru felt like his heart was pierced with Cupid's arrow.

"Okay, call me when you need me." Toru replied. But remembering something important, he then added, "Although, I might not be available at times because I'm editing another manga."

"What?" Takahiro looked absolutely shocked.

"Don't give me that look. Editors work on more than one manga. Obviously, one editor per manga would have resulted in either crowded workplaces or a lack of manga on the market."

"I never knew that..." Takahiro mumbled beneath his breath. He sounded a bit hurt, probably because he thought Toru was his and his only. _Wait...where'd that come from?_

With an eyebrow raised, Toru watched the smaller man fidget in disappointment before saying anything more. The editor had no idea what would make Takahiro's demeanour suddenly change like this, but it certainly was odd. Wasn't he like fire not too long ago?

"Taka, are you alright?" Toru asked.

That seemed to snap the vocalist back to reality. "Yeah, I am. I'm fine." he then stood up and prepared himself to leave. "I'll give you a call soon."

Toru nodded his reply.

The two then parted ways, Toru heading back up to the editorial department. But as soon as he exited from the elevator and made his way to his desk, Alex swooped in like a hawk, ready to snatch up its prey.

"I see you've been meeting with that “Taka” quite often these days." he started, acting all suave. "So...how far have you progressed? I know you've already got the digits."

Toru was not amused. The other editors around started making hearts with their fingers and teasing faces at the young editor.

"We've been progressing quite steadily." Toru started. "He's already got twenty-six pages drawn, so thanks for asking."

Alex's face deflated in an instant. "You asshole, you know what I'm talking about." He snapped.

Toru sighed and turned away from the older man. Alex was quite scary, in the sense that when it came onto things like these, the half American could sniff it out in an instant.

"We have a business relationship Alex.” Toru said, the words tasting bitter rolling off his tongue. Sure, he wished that he and Takahiro were more than that but what could he do?  “Much like you and Tomoya."

Alex huffed with pride. "Tomo-san and I are _friends._ It isn't strictly a business relationship."

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes.

"Boy! Did you just roll your eyes at me?!" Alex joked. "You _didn't_ just roll your eyes at me!"

“Of course not, _Dad.”_ Toru played along. He then refocused on his task before him, but then remembered that he had to meet the mangaka.

 

…

...

...

 

And so the weeks flew by quickly, Takahiro drawing like there was no tomorrow. Any chance that he got at work, he drew; on the train ride home he drew...he was just constantly drawing. And in between these, he'd ask Toru for his professional opinion, the man willingly giving him advice every time. The two had even met up at a café couple times given that Toru was heading to rile up the mangaka that he was in charge of, for a manuscript that was well overdue.

Frankly, Takahiro could care less — _or rather, shouldn't—_ but a part of him couldn't help it. He felt as though Toru was his and his only, and shouldn't be running off to another mangaka— _to someone else._ He found it odd that he was feeling like this, but reading enough literature, Takahiro had an inkling of what was happening to him.

“No way…” he said, blowing it off with a chuckle. “A guy like him would probably be straight and have a girlfriend anyway.”

Taking his mind off Toru, Takahiro continued to focus on his manga for the competition. After hours and days and weeks, Takahiro’s manuscript was completed, one day before the actual deadline. When he had delivered the manuscript safely in Toru’s hands, there was a small feeling of sadness. Does this mean he’ll never see Toru again after this?

“So...I take it that this is the last I’ll see you?” Takahiro ended up blurting out.

Toru shrugged. “You have my number, don’t you?”

“But I won’t have a reason to call you.”

A deep chuckle boomed through the booth, startling even the others in the other booths. “You don’t have to have a reason to call me. You can just call to say “how are you doing” or something.”

Takahiro didn’t say anything at first. “I know. But wouldn’t it be odd?”

“No. Not at all.” The editor shook his head with a smile. “At least, not to me.”

“R—right.” Takahiro stuttered, unable to meet the taller man’s gaze. Hearing Toru’s voice left him a little weak as that baritone was extremely pleasant to listen to. Turning away his face, he said, “I’ll see you when I see you again.” The petite man spun on his heel and exited, leaving a saddened looking Toru.

“Yeah.” Toru barely responded as he watched Takahiro’s retreating figure head through the door.

 

…

 

 By the time Toru reached home, he had lost all appetite and energy. Realizing that he'll probably never see his feisty little author anymore put a damper on his mood. Takahiro brightened up his days, and since they met up _everyday,_ Toru was always looking forward to meeting the petite man.

His smiles, his laughs, and his beautiful curled locks...the way he twists in his seat whenever Toru suggests something that he doesn't like, or the way he smiles smugly when Toru gives in to _his_ will.

He misses Takahiro's sweet, _delicious_ scent that wafts through the air the moment Takahiro enters the booth or wherever they decided to meet.

Toru missed it all.

The blond editor wanted to know more about Takahiro, he already knew what he liked and disliked from their meetings outside of Amuse, but he wanted to know what pissed him off from what made him calm, he wanted to know so much more, but...

"Shit." he mumbled.

Lying in his bed and staring up at the ceiling with his mind filled with nothing but his tiny author, Toru found that he was really— _actually—_ falling in love with Takahiro.

"What am I going to do?"

…

 

Like Toru, Takahiro was at home, wondering about his next course of action. He's grown to love being in the editor's company; he loved to hear his voice—the way he says _"Takahiro"_ in that deep baritone sends delightful shivers down his spine.

It was so bad that there were times that Takahiro _purposely_ argues with Toru to prolong their time together, or he fucks up a page that Toru told him to fix so that they could meet again.

Just thinking about him is enough to make Takahiro ache, coupled with the fact that they weren't going to be seeing each other anytime soon,  _if ever again._

"Toru-san..." he said as he slumped in his sofa. "...what am I going to do?"

 

...

...

...

 

At last, the day came for the Final Selection Meeting.

In one of the conference rooms sat the Editor-in-Chief, his assistants and many other senior editors around a large square table. Other editors were present, they were the ones who had an author who submitted a work for the Denki award. That included Yamashita Toru.

"Now then, we'll announce the results of the annual Denki Grand Prix Prize." the Editor-in-Chief started. "Out of five hundred and three entrants, there were thirty finalists after we've tallied up the points for each." The room was eerily silent as the Chief spoke. "We'll be presenting them in descending order based on the average scores."

The aged man then reached for a stack of papers where he immediately started the process. "In first place, with an average score of 4.8, the winner is..."

Toru kept his fingers crossed that Takahiro's manga would at least make it to the top three. He was confident that his artist could win the Prize, but life has a way of being an unexpected bitch sometimes.

"...Taka's _"Food Wars",_ edited by Yamashita."

Beneath the desk, Toru squeezed his knees to contain his joy. He wasn't a man who'd beam brightly upon hearing such news, so if he jumped and screamed would have been out of character. But that didn't mean there wasn't a huge-ass grin on his face.

"Thank you." was all the editor could say from his seat.

The Chief continued to read out the list of top ten entrants, but Toru tuned them all out. In his head, he was wondering how he could surprise Takahiro with this wonderful news and the reaction he'd have. So, as soon as the meeting ended, and the editors who had authors submit work returned to their desks, Toru didn't hesitate in calling his feisty author. 

"Hey, Taka," he droned when the petite man picked up the phone.

_"Yes Toru-san? What's up? Don't tell me your boss lost my manuscript or someshit."_

Toru chuckled. "Get rid of such absurd thoughts, Takahiro." he said. "I was wondering if we could meet today after work?"

 _"That sounds sketchy Toru-san."_ Takahiro hummed into the phone. _"If it's bad news that you're going to drop on me, better do it over the phone than in person."_

The editor whistled at Takahiro's intuition. "I'm not going to drop a bad news bomb on you. Trust me."

_"Okay, Café Sunset at six o'clock. Don't be late."  
_

"Aye, aye." Toru sighed. Takahiro is still as demanding as ever. But before he could even breathe properly, in came Alex.

"Congrats Toru!" the older male perked as he threw a hand over his shoulder as soon as he hung up the phone. "I heard your manga won the Denki!"

"Yeah, Taka did work hard after all."

Alex's face twisted into a mischievous expression. "You both did. Didn't you?" he said. "But, it's the first that I've seen you put out such effort for a bud that suddenly popped up."

Toru sighed. There Alex goes again with his insinuations. "It's because I see great potential in Taka."

"Great potential to be your future wife." he snickered as he sauntered away to his desk. "I wish you good luck if he gets serialized!"

"And I wish you'd drop dead right this instant!" Toru roared back.

 

...

...

...

 

Takahiro sat by the window in the Café, awaiting Toru's arrival. He sipped on a soda while gazing aimlessly out the window. People and cars went by like blurs, but one thing on Takahiro's mind was the reason Toru wanted to see him. He knew the man was busy with editing another manga, so why would he want to meet with him? The Denki's deadline was already gone, so there was no reason for them to meet anymore.

"Which is a bummer." Takahiro grumbled out. He actually loved all the times he's spent with Toru, and even his best friend Takeru teased him about it.

"What is?"

The petite man jolted upright when he heard an all too familiar deep voice coming from behind him. This was the second time that Toru heard him say something and asked about it.

"No-nothing, Toru-san."

"Hmm...if you say so." The editor pulled out the chair facing the budding artist and placed a neatly wrapped gift on the table.

Startled, Takahiro asked, "What's that for?" He didn't want to ask "Is that for me?" because there's no way Toru would actually buy _him_ a gift. They've only known each other for so long and no more, _plus,_ they haven't even spent that great deal of time to know each other well enough.

"Not what, but _who."_ Toru smirked, all knowingly.

"Oh."

Wordlessly, Toru pushed the gift toward Takahiro, shocking him. With a warm smile this time, Toru said, "Congratulations on winning the Denki, Taka."

Takahiro froze in his seat.

He couldn't believe he was hearing the words he had waited on for so long. He stared at Toru with wide, disbelieving eyes, before flickering back to the gift in front of him. With shaking hands, he reached for it, and slowly took off the cover without having to undo the knot. Peering inside, he spotted a silver wristwatch.

"You bought this..." Takahiro started, still refusing to believe reality. "...for me?"

“You earned it.”

Takahiro shook his head and looked to the window. With a sombre voice, he said, “It’s all because of you that I managed to win. I didn’t have a decent plot, you know?”

Toru chuckled. “But you’ve worked tirelessly on this. Take your credit already.” However, his tone turned into something more serious. “So, now that you’ve won, you’re thinking of serializing it, right?”

“Of course!” Takahiro perked. “But does that mean, you won’t be my editor if I choose to?”

Toru shrugged. “Possibly. I don’t know who my boss will choose.”

“Can I ask for an editor specifically?”

“It doesn’t work that way, Taka.” Toru said, shaking his head. “Once you’ve gotten an editor, you’re stuck with them until your manga ends.”

“Eh?!” Takahiro screeched. “But what if we’re not compatible!? I’ll still be —”

“In that case, you can ask for a change. But you have to be _really_ incompatible for that to happen.”

"Ah right." Takahiro said a bit absentmindedly as he put on the watch. It gleamed under the light, and there was a feeling welling inside the smaller male. Toru-san bought him a congratulatory gift. Toru-san worked with him through his rants, and fiery attitude to make his goal a reality. Toru-san...

"Have you ever bought a mangaka a gift before?" he ended up blurting out.

"No, you're first and the last."

"Ne, Toru-san..."

"Hmm?"

"Do you, by any chance," Takahiro fidgeted within his seat, unable to finish his sentence. "Do you know the date of the awards ceremony?" he asked. At the last minute he changed his mind from asking his initial question. _Not because he bought you a congratulatory gift, that doesn't mean anything deep._

"No, not yet." Toru denied. "But my, aren't you eager?"

Takahiro forced a smile in hopes of hiding his inner turmoil, "Well duh. That way, I can know whether or not I'll get serialized!"

Toru narrowed his eyes at the grinning man. Being around Takahiro, he's been able to pick up some subtle and hidden reactions in the man. As an editor, he's able to pick up a lot of things, even in humans.

"I see." Toru nodded. "I see."

"What's with that response!?" Takahiro nearly shrieked. "It's like..."

"What am I supposed to say?" Toru shrugged.

"Something along the lines of "hold your horses, the world of manga isn't easy. Enjoy your freedom" or someshit. That's so you."

"Well," Toru chuckled until he broke out in full blown laughter. His deep voice echoed in the partially empty café, the baritone was pleasant in Takahiro's ears. Hearing the man's voice, the petite artist was almost lulled into a dream-like state. He could listen to Toru's laughter all day, he could stare into those half-lidded eyes for eternity, he could spend the rest of his remaining lifespan with the other man by his side.

 _Oh shit..._ Takahiro thought, straightening up in his seat at the realization. _I'm falling in love with him._

"Is everything alright?"

"Huh?" Takahiro snapped back to reality to meet Toru's worried gaze.

"You just suddenly sprang up, so I thought that maybe..."

"Oh no, I remembered that there was something that I had to do." the small man quickly said as he gathered his things and bowed his farewell to Toru. "Sorry, maybe next time."

As he watched Takahiro scurry away from him like a frightened rodent, Toru rest an elbow on the table with his chin in his palm. "Why? Was it something I said?"

 

...

...

...

 

A couple weeks passed and the day of the awards ceremony finally arrived. Takahiro made his way to Amuse, dressed professionally in a suit — _well, he was always in a suit everyday for work, anyway_ —his smile was so blinding it could've put the sun to shame. Getting past the receptionist and going into the elevator, Takahiro finally made it to his destination.

The room was quite large with minimalist decorations on the top of the walls and by stage. The room was crowded with all sorts of people, from editors, to contestants, to veteran manga artists and even people from other magazine departments like fashion and sports.

Takahiro entered the room looking like a lost puppy. He was tiny, and majority of the people (males, especially) were like towers in comparison to him. He was becoming uncomfortable, and felt like returning home and have Toru collect his award on his behalf instead. Scanning the crowd, his eyes managed to spot someone he's been itching for.

“Toru-san!!” Takahiro screeched as he spotted the tall editor chatting with someone else. His voice echoed throughout the hall and it seemed that everyone stopped to see who made that scream.

“Ta—Taka?!” Toru was equally shocked. The author told him that he'd be there at a certain time, but guess what, the brat was earlier than he'd indicated.

"I was looking all over for you!" he shrieked. "Who the hell told you to dye your hair?!"

"Uh..." This time, Toru's hair wasn't bleached blond like Takahiro was used to, but instead, it was raven black, done in its regular sweep style. Coupled with him being in a white suit, Takahiro had to admit, Toru did look rather...

 _Orgasm inducing,_ the petite man lustfully thought. But quickly, he said, "Don't you ever change your colour without my permission first!"

Alex, who was standing next to Toru, raised an eyebrow at the two. He couldn’t believe that this was “Taka”, and wondered just how old he really is. He was really small, _tiny_ to be exact.

“Uh, hello.” Alex finally spoke up, not wanting to be forgotten.

Takahiro paused and looked at the half-American with disgust. “Who’re you? Can’t you see I’m talking with Toru-san?”

Toru doubled his lips to not burst out laughing. Takahiro hasn’t changed one bit.

“I’m Toru’s friend, Alex. And I was talking with him first.”

Takahiro was unfazed. “So? Like I give a fuck.”

Alex drew back at the foul mouthed young man. “Boy! Have some respect! I’m older than you!”

“Actually, there isn’t that much of an age difference between you two.” Toru supplied, causing Alex to gape in shock. “We’re the same age.”

“This midget is the same age as you!? What sorcery is this?!”

“Who’re you calling a midget, you overgrown pole?!”

“What?!”

Seeing that this was escalating into something nasty, Toru did some damage control and dragged Takahiro outside for some fresh air. He didn’t want people to start staring and whispering, because it would not end well.

"Who does he think he is anyway?" Takahiro hissed once they were in the elevator, heading up to another floor.

Toru sighed in distress. "An editor." was his only response.

"Does he work in your department?"

"Yeah." Toru saw the smaller man frown in disgust. He had a vague idea of what he was thinking, but he kept his mouth shut.

"So if I get serialized, there's a chance that I might get that asshole?" he asked before he added, "I remember when you said that we'll be stuck with one editor for the rest of our lives, if I ever get him..."

Toru laughed. From that little exchange Takahiro could already deduce that he and Alex weren’t meant to get along? How funny. “You may never know.” He teased. “But, for sure, Alex won’t be the one editing your manga. He’s got his hands full.”

“Thank God.” He sighed a relief.

Finally, the elevator doors opened, Toru leading Takahiro to a lounge-like area. There were a few sofas and bean-bag chairs here and there, but mostly, this area had a lot of regular chairs.

"Why'd you bring me here?" Takahiro asked.

"To cool your head and to prevent anyone from judging you. Or rather, us." Toru deadpanned as he walked over to a table and chair nestled near the windows.

"It's your friend's fault."

"Ah..." Toru drawled. In his opinion, _both_ of them were at fault. "...either way, you two were being boisterous and immature."

"I was not!" Takahiro shrieked. "I can't let that bastard call me a midget!"

"You can be the twenty-five year old that you are and ignore the fucker. Imagine what _I_ have to go through everyday." he groaned out.

"That's not my problem." Takahiro said with sass.

"You —"

"Oh my, the ceremony hasn't started yet and I'm already tired." A chirpy voice said from the doorway.

"Must be old age." Another snickered.

"Old age!? I'm just two years older than you Ryouta-kun! What the hell?!"

Takahiro immediately whipped around his head at the sounds of the voices. However, when his eyes landed on one of the two men who walked in, he looked like he was about to burst with joy. Takahiro recognized the taller of the two walked in. There's no way wouldn't have. It was one of his favourite mangaka, Kanki Tomoya who simply uses his given name as his pen-name.

"Toru," Takahiro squirmed in his seat. "Is that Tomoya-san? Please tell me that that's Tomoya-san."

"Yes he is. He's a guest speaker here, and he was a part of the judging panel for the Denki."

The petite man made a muffled scream. "Can I ask him for an autograph?"

"Of course you —"

"Tomoya-san!!!" Takahiro flew from his seat and made an attempt to head towards the older manga artist. However, Toru was swift enough and grabbed him by the collar, almost choking him.

But, hearing his name, Tomoya looked in the duo's direction and saw the petite man being restrained by a larger, taller Toru.

"Toru?" Tomoya asked as he trotted over. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"This is probably why we didn't see him downstairs where everyone else gathered." Tomoya's assistant—Kohama Ryouta said with a snicker. He had shoulder length hair with bleached blond hair ends.

"Yeah, he met Alex." Toru sighed, tilting his head to Takahiro.

"No Armageddon?" Ryouta asked. Alex was their editor, so the two males knew just how _terrible_ the half-Japanese could get.

"Because of my quick response."

"Toru-san, you know them?" Takahiro finally asked, tired of looking back and forth the three males.

"Yes, Ryouta is my childhood friend even though I'm older." he replied. "And when Ryouta became Tomoya-san's assistant, naturally I'd meet him." he shrugged.

"Motherfucker! You had these links and didn't say anything to me?!" Takahiro shrieked. "How could you?!"

"Sorry, it never crossed my mind."

"You...!"

"My, my, Toru," Ryouta snickered. "It seems like he's got you on a leash."

"Well, he —" Takahiro started but never got to finish.

"Taka, don't even finish that sentence." Toru interjected quickly to prevent trouble the little man might put him in.

Now with the introductions over and done with, Takahiro asked — _more like demanded—_ an autograph from Tomoya. He was an avid fan of the older artist's work, and when Toru told him that Takahiro's work was _"Food Wars",_ the trio fell into friendly chatter that seemed never-ending. Ryouta _loved_ the scenes and expressions Takahiro gave his characters whenever they tasted good food, and Tomoya _loved_ reading about the food in general.

As he'd commented, _"It made my mouth drool."_

As for Toru, he only sat back and watched the trio interact like children who found a common interest in a toy or someshit. But, soon, Takahiro did something that made both his and Ryouta's eyebrows raise.

"Tomoya-san, may I ask a question?"

"Sure, what is it?"

Wordlessly, Takahiro got up and dragged the man off to another side of the room, out of earshot of Toru and Ryouta.

"Is it normal for an editor to buy a newcomer a congratulatory gift for winning an award?"

"Well..." Tomoya started. "I know Alex didn't buy me anything." he grumbled. However, he quickly returned to his previous disposition given the look on Takahiro's face. "I don't know about other publishing houses, but for a fact, no editor buys their newcomer a gift for winning anything. Even veteran authors like me, who's been doing this shit since high school, I haven't received a gift for my hard work and shit." he shrugged. "So I'd say, maybe the editor has the hots for that newcomer. Why the question?"

"I was just curious if, you know, incentives are given out like other workplaces."

"Hmm...nope!" he chuckled. "That editor definitely fell for that newcomer. Or maybe he's just nice. Probably a new breed of editors."

Takahiro didn't need to hear anymore. "Right, maybe he's just nice."

Catching Ryouta's signal, Tomoya threw an arm over Takahiro and said with a smile, "So, let's head to the ceremony, ne?"

"Ye—yeah."

Within a minute or two, the quartet returned to the ceremony just in time to take their respectable seats and hear the Chief's opening speech. It was rather lengthy, but with little jokes and anecdotes here and there so as to not bore the audience to death. 

Following, was the handing out of awards, the only segment that Takahiro was interested in. The MC started from the honourable mentions, then into the runners-up and lastly, the winner. When Takahiro's name was called, he jumped up and almost skipped towards the podium. Everyone there was surprised that this _child_ drew the winning manga. Even the other contestants were stunned that such a small person beat them. However, they got the shock of their lives when the MC decided to talk to Takahiro.

"Wow, so how are you feeling that you won this award? Were your parents supportive? How did you manage this with schoolwork?"

Toru roared with laughter, Alex beside him struggling to keep his at bay.

Takahiro twitched with irritation. "My parents don't even know I entered. Two, I'm twenty-five, I don't have schoolwork."

It was like time stopped. No one could believe their ears, this little boy was twenty-five? There are teenagers who could pass for his age!

"Oh. Sorry about that. You look so —"

"Well done, Taka!" Toru quickly shouted to prevent the shit that was going to happen if the MC had completed the sentence.

"Of course Toru-san, you're the one who helped me after all." He grinned. Seconds later, he sauntered off, going towards Toru and Alex, who were watching Tomoya and Ryouta inhale the food like starving beasts.

"And now we'll have a few congratulatory words from our guest judges, Tomoya-san, 5K-san and Niji-san." The MC said, introducing the men by their pen-names instead. Tomoya went up first, being that he was the closest to the stage. He quickly wiped off his mouth with a napkin before going up.

"Uh, I'm Tomoya. Congratulations on winning." he started, albeit a bit nonchalantly. "I was given the honour to take a look of all your works, and man, I was impressed!" he chirped, the nonchalantly disappearing like it was never there. "Tell me how to draw my next chapter, ne?!" he joked, earning laughter from the crowd. "But, a weekly serialization is pretty tough, you know? There's going to be times when you want to sleep but can't because a manuscript is due and your editor will have your head because the printers will have his. There are times when you wanna go out on a date, or a friend's wedding or funeral comes up, if your deadline is near, best believe you're gonna have to prioritize that manuscript. But in the end, it'll a be worth it.

However, if you still want to be serialized after hearing all that," his face darkened as though foreshadowing doom, "then come at me. Because guess what, I'll crush you with everything I've got."

He purposely looked in Takahiro's direction and made eye-contact, making the small man almost fall over from the tension. Toru said nothing but sipped on his drink. After all, the world of manga is a battlefield between artists and editors too —even if they're in the same company.

"My, my Tomoya-san, you _had_ to scare them, huh?" The MC said to lighten the mood.

"What are you talking about? If they run away from that, how are they going to handle the real stress of the manga world?" he quipped.

"Ah..." the MC succumbed. "So, 5K-san, and Niji-san, any words?"

The two shook their heads after which the artist known as 5K said, "Tomoya-san already said it all. What's there to add?"

"Right...so let's hear some words from our winners!" he perked. "Taka-san? Let's go!"

Takahiro looked to Toru with a panicked face. He was never good with public speaking and the damn editor didn't tell him anything so that he could prepare ahead. With a push from his back, Toru urged him to go up, but whispered in his ear, "You can do it."

With a nod, he walked, with shaky steps to the podium, opened his mouth his speak. But, given that Tomoya was taller, Takahiro had to tip to be able to reach. Seeing his distress, the MC quickly adjusted the mic-stand so that the petite man could speak with ease. But all throughout this, the crowd looked at him with surprise. Almost everyone thought he was a teenager, given his small stature.

"I'm...uh..." he started, the nervousness evident in his voice. But he held his head down, as though he didn't want to see the people's face. Toru didn't like this, so he headed up on the stage as well, and tilted Takahiro's chin upwards and said —

"You're a winner. And winners stand tall with their heads held high."

"I—"

"So show _them_ exactly who you are."

Almost as though it was a power-up, a bright smile appeared on Takahiro's face as he once more took his stance and faced the crowd.

"I'll be coming for you Tomoya-san." he said with a smirk. "You'll be the perfect stepping stone that I need to become Japan's number one." he then bowed before leaving the podium.

Tomoya's eyes narrowed into slits, he smirked at the petite man. "I'm all game, _Taka-chan."_

The crowd was stunned into silence, more so Toru. He thought Takahiro was going to say something along the lines of "thank you for blah, and it was honour for blah". But no, he outright went and declared war with their company's number one. Toru was not prepared for this.

Suddenly, he felt a cold aura coming from beside him and saw Alex with one of the most twisted grins he's ever seen the man make. His dark eyes found Toru's and the two editors knew that the moment Takahiro gets serialized, it's going to be an all out war.

 

...

...

...

 

It's been a few weeks since the ceremony, and while Toru nor Taka had the chance to meet with each other, they've resorted to simple text messages and if either one was feeling desperate, phone calls.

It was an ordinary weekday like any other, Toru meeting with his other author to discuss some changes done to a name she had submitted earlier. Throughout this, the editor realized that Takahiro was in a league of his own. Unlike his current author, the petite man didn't take his suggestions without a fight first.

"That's a lot of changes Yamashita-san!" she whined.

"Well, if you want the events of this chapter to flow smoothly, then do it." he said. "What you had before was unnecessary panels and useless conversations between characters just to stretch out the page count."

"The conversations are not useless!" she huffed. "It's there to show that Ao was expressing his love for Sara!"

"Hijikata-san," Toru sighed. "Look at me," he started, "Why can't you have him saying something like "blah, blah, I've loved you since "x" time, so..." and have him trail off with that. Then, show her shocked face, his blushing face to build up the tension and then you drop a full page kiss scene." he said with folded arms, leaning back into his chair. "Hmm? How about that?"

Hijikata remained silent. After hearing that, she knew Toru was right. So with a sigh, she said, "Fine. I don't even know why I bother to even try to argue with you."

"Arguments are healthy." He smiled. "So, how long will those changes take?"

"About 1 to 2 days." She said.

"Great. See you then."

"Yeah."

The two parted ways, but the moment Toru returned to his editing department, he was immediately requested by the Editor-in-chief. The man's shoulders slumped, having an idea of what this was going to be about. Earlier in the day, the entire floor knew that there was a serialization meeting, so more than likely, he was going to be an editor for a new manga.

"Good day Sir." Toru said as he entered the man's office.

"Yamashita-kun," the aged man smiled. "Congratulations on editing the winning manga in the Denki."

"Thank you." he nodded.

"As you already know, we've had a serialization meeting today, and we've decided to serialize _two_ manga."

"Oh. That's great."

"Taka-san's _"Food Wars"_ is one of them, and since you've worked with him before, you'll continue to be his editor. "

"Oh, thank you." Toru said with a bow while his inner self was jumping and screaming at the good news.

"Huh? Such a strange reaction. I thought you'd be a bit more happy." Toru raised an eyebrow. "Onizawa-san told me how close you were with Taka-san so I thought—"

"But, I'm absolutely thrilled." The young editor said, cutting the man off. "I just can't jump and scream in your office, now can I?"

"No, well..."

"Rest assured, I am extremely grateful that you allowed me to remain as Takahiro's editor. " he mentally slapped himself for forgetting to use his pen-name instead.

The Chief looked at Toru with a knowing smile before dismissing the editor to tell his author the good news. However, what he didn't know was that Toru was conflicted as to what to do with Alex. Maybe, if he hadn't told the Chief that he and Takahiro were close, then he wouldn't have remained his editor, but then again, who gave him the right to be telling his business out like that?

"Shit, Alex. I don't know whether or not I should kill you or thank you." he grumbled.

 

...

...

 

At the end of work, Toru hopped in his car and headed towards Takahiro's. Of course he hadn't told the smaller man that he was on his way, but he didn't care. He wanted to tell Takahiro that he was being serialized, and that he's still his editor _just to see_ the reaction of the smaller man.

For over an hour he drove, as usual his music playing to keep his mind occupied. When he reached the artist's neighbourhood, a smile — _grin—_ appeared on his face. He'll be able to see Takahiro more often, although this means he'll be facing Takahiro's fire a lot more often.

He reached the building and as such, pulled his car over and parked. With a smile, he hopped out of the vehicle and whipped out his phone from his pocket. Dialling the number in his contacts, he awaited an answer.

_“Hello? What do you want Toru-san?”_

“I want to see you.” He said curtly. “I’m at your building. Come and let me in.”

_“Wait, what? Why?”_

Toru sighed. “I’m your editor, _Takahiro.”_

He hadn’t gotten a reply, instead, he noticed that the call was cut off. He wondered what could have caused it, but before he could re-dial, he saw the double doors open and a small man in bathrobes with a white towel wrapped around his head dash towards him.

“Toru-san!!” it was another scream like the one at the ceremony.

“Oof!” Toru crashed backwards into his car’s bumper, Takahiro pressing onto the taller man.

“I’m so glad!” he screeched. “The gods have answered me!”

“Yeah, they’ve answered mine as well.” He chuckled. “But, could we actually get up to your house? You’re outside, in bathrobes.”

“Oh right.”

…

 

When the two reached to Takahiro’s home, Toru stayed in the living room while the artist put on some clothes. However, that didn't stop him from using his front camera to look at the small man changing behind him in a far room.

 _Damn, his skin is so smooth…_ Toru thought as he ran a hand through his hair. “Shit…”

“Shit what?”

“Ah!” Toru didn’t hear when he arrived, his footsteps were so light, they were inaudible. “Nothing, nothing.” He stammered out.

“Uh huh,” Takahiro was not convinced. But nevertheless, he plopped himself into the sofa beside the editor, an awkward silence came between the two.

“So…what do we actually do now?” Takahiro started, unable to stand the silence.

“Really, I came here just to tell you that I’m your editor and that you're being serialized. That’s all.”

“Seriously? When you could’ve just called?”

“I wanted to see your face.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re cute.”

Takahiro reddened immediately. “Wha—what?” he stuttered. “I’m _cute?”_

Toru didn’t hide it anymore. “Yes, yes you are.” He said. “Very much so.”

The small man laughed. “If only this was a shoujo manga. That would count as a confession, right?”

“It is.”

Takahiro felt like time stopped. His eyes locked onto Toru's unwavering half-lidded eyes, finding that the other man was dead serious. Something welled within Takahiro, something that he couldn't explain. He'd been pining after his editor for weeks, he's even made up some lie about a non-existent friend in order to get advice from Takeru on what to do and now it all seems in vain.

Toru-san just confessed.

Toru-san just confessed.

_Fucking hell, Toru-san just confessed!_

"That...that was a confession, right?" Takahiro asked for confirmation. "My ears aren't deceiving me, right?"

"No they aren't." Toru sighed. "I like you, Moriuchi Takahiro."

"Oh." the manga artist said absentmindedly. Toru on the other hand, was not pleased. This has been the first time since, _a very long time,_ that he'd actually confessed his feelings for someone; and frankly, this was the first time that he's gotten such a lacklustre response. But it was to be expected. He's a male after all, and well, even though Takahiro could be mistaken for a female, he's still a _male._ Who knows if he already has a girlfriend? Or someone who he has his eyes set on? Or even another male lover?

"You can —"

But Toru never got to finish that sentence. Suddenly, he felt soft, feathery lips crash onto his, the action was neither desperate and wanton, but delicate and chaste. Which was a surprise, even for Takahiro himself.

"I, uh," the petite man stuttered out, his brain unable to process a sentence properly as his face reddened with embarrassment.

Taking advantage of this, Toru took hold of Takahiro and kissed him yet again. This time, the smaller man's lips parted, freely giving Toru entrance to his wet cavern. Takahiro tasted so good. He was so addicting that Toru allowed himself to drown in the artist's flavour.

"To—Toru-san," Takahiro breathed out, barely ripping himself from the other man's kiss. "Can—can we— _hmmph!"_ he broke off as his mouth was claimed yet again, this time in a far more fierce, hungry kiss.

"We can do anything you want." Toru murmured against his lips. The editor took this chance to grab him into a tight embrace, slithering his hands up and under Takahiro's t-shirt, teasing the smooth skin beneath.

Takahiro's hands then snaked around Toru's neck before entangling themselves in the editor's blackened locks; the latter's hands lingered on his waist, holding him in place. Their lips locked together in a passionate kiss, bodies pressed against each other leaving absolutely no space. Toru's other hand made his way underneath Takahiro's shirt, and with a swift movement, Toru pulled Takahiro's shirt over and above his head, tossing it to the floor like garbage.

"Mm...Toru-san~" Takahiro whimpered out at the fiery touches. "Can we..." he breathed out, "...move?"

Toru smirked.

The editor's hands then travelled lower, roaming Takahiro's backside seductively after which he pulled down the petite man's boxers. A pleasured moan escaped Takahiro's lips as Toru squeezed his ass possessively using this as momentum to lift him up. Feeling his feet lifting off the floor, Takahiro automatically wrapped his legs around Toru's waist, the latter man then moved off to the bedroom, not once breaking the kiss.

A couple murmured instructions and stumbling later, they finally entered the bedroom and continued their escapade there. On the white pillowcase, Takahiro's black curly locks looked like magnificent ornate design on a plain white canvas.

With reddened cheeks and lustful eyes, Takahiro looked up at Toru, effectively making Toru lose his shit. He leaned down, kissing Takahiro all over his neck and leaving a rather large mark just below his earlobe. His tongue travelled over his chest and to Takahiro's hardened nipples.

The small man's body trembled, moaning with utmost delight as Toru took one of his nipples into his mouth with a gentle suck. His tongue circled teasingly over the perked nub, while Takahiro ran his hand through his blackened locks, panting heavily. His body never knew such pleasure, and he was already aching for _more._

Feeling Takahiro squirming beneath him, Toru knew what the man wanted. And he _obliged._ With swift movements, Toru flipped the smaller man onto his stomach; his right hand trailed the indent of his spine down to his ass.

Takahiro shook with pleasure, but little did he know what was in store for him.

Not that he minded.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading~!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> The real life manga "Shokugeki no Souma" is the one used for Taka, given its content fits him perfectly, in my opinion.


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